A/n: Happy Supernatural Day! In honor of a show who's birth I cherish more than my own, I decided to post a one shot I've been working on for quiet awhile.
SPOILER ALERT for season 6 premiere and season 5 finale
I don't own this amazing show or its fantastic characters.
Bittersweet Symphony
It wasn't the blinding light that lit up the bedroom that woke the mother. It wasn't even the clap of thunder that shook the floors and rattled the windows. It was the beckoning of her title followed by the feeling of tiny fingers clinging to her closest in reach arm and shaking it vigorously that finally brought the woman's green eyes to crack open. The room was still submerged in darkness, causing her to fear something was very wrong. She'd finally just got little Sammy to fall asleep and hadn't had much of it herself, and it was clear to her that something was now keeping her oldest son awake. She moved herself so that she was raised up a bit, using her forearm.
"Dean? What's wrong?" She whispered in the dark, trying not to wake her husband who was sleeping next to her.
"'M scared Mommy," the small boy answered.
"Of what Love?"
"The noise."
Mary felt herself relax a little and she smiled.
"It's ok Baby, you're ok. It's just a storm, it'll pass," she promised him. No sooner had the words left her mouth when yet another loud boom and a big flash of light went off. Dean jumped and let out a startled sound, while John stirred slightly before falling still again.
"Come on," Mary beckoned, patting the open space on the bed next to her. The four year old obeyed and climbed in next to his mother. She pulled him close and wrapped her arms protectively around him.
As quietly as she could, Mary began to sing to her son. "Hey Jude, don't be afraid. Take a sad song and make it better..." Halfway through the song, she heard soft and easy breaths puffing from her oldest boy and when she moved to look, she saw his eyes were closed. Gently, Mary kissed Dean's forehead and whispered, "night Love," before settling back down. Her arms still embraced him as she joined her husband and sons in slumber. The storm went on and the family didn't stirred again till morning.
XXX
It wasn't the blinding light that lit up the motel room that woke the eight year old boy. It wasn't even the clap of thunder that shook the floors and rattled the windows. It was the beckoning of his name followed by the feeling of tiny fingers clinging to his outstretched left arm and shaking it vigorously that finally brought the boy's green eyes to crack open. The room was still submerged in darkness, which told him that it was far too early for either of them to be awake. Despite desperately wanting to roll over, pull the blankets tighter around him, and close his eyes until the sun was up, he instead propped himself up on his elbow and rubbed his sleep filled eyes.
"S'mmy? 's wrong?" He mumbled at the dark.
"'M scared Dee," a small shaky voice replied.
"Scared? Of what?"
"The light and boom," Sammy confessed.
"Light and boom?" The older boy echoed perplexed. As if in answer, another flash of light shone through the curtained window followed by the roll of thunder. The younger boy whimpered and dug his nails in deeper.
"'s ok Sammy, you're alright. It won't hurt you."
"Are you sure?" He questioned nervously.
"Positive. Go back to sleep." Another flash and clap.
"I want Daddy," he squeaked.
"Dad's not here. He'll be back soon."
It was quiet for a second and had multiple tiny fingernails not been digging into his arm, the eight year old would have simply rolled over and returned to slumber.
It was too dark to see his brother's expression, but he had a pretty clear idea of the look on his face. He'd heard that tiny voice enough times to know that wide watery eyes accompanied it. He sighed.
"C'mon Sammy." Dean scooted over to the other side of his bed and the four year old didn't waste any time crawling into the freshly vacant spot, finally letting go of the older boy's arm.
It wasn't long ago that Dean had finally been able to sleep in his own bed. Normally he shared with his little brother while their father slept opposite them. It wasn't that Dean minded sharing a sleeping space, it was that Sam tended to have nightmares which in turn caused him to thrash around in his sleep. Too many times had the older boy woken up to a foot in his ribs or a hand in his face.
Sam snuggled into the warmth of where Dean had been laying since they had gone to bed that night while the eight year old shivered slightly as he tried to re-acclimate to the previously unoccupied side. The older boy waited for the younger to settle down and get comfortable before closing his eyes. Another burst of light and rumble startled the four year old who moved closer to his brother and squeezed his eyes shut.
"Dee?"
"Mmm?" Dean mumbled into his pillow.
"'M still scared."
"'S ok Sammy, I'm here. You're safe, I promise." The smaller boy moved closer to his brother, curling himself up into a ball making him appear even smaller than he already was. With another strike of lightening accompanied by an even bigger boom of thunder, the eight year old felt his little brother jump and his legs kick out at the same time his head found its way into Dean's armpit.
"Ow!"
Sam mumbled an apology but didn't remove himself from the safety of his brother's side. Dean closed his eyes once again and threw his arm protectively over the four year old, the boy could still feel his sibling shaking slightly. Dean cleared his throat then began to half mumble half sing, "hey Jude, don't be afraid. Take a sad song and make it better..." It took a few verses, which would taper off into hums until it got to the chorus, but finally the small boy stopped shaking and soon after, the brother could hear soft snores coming from his side. He looked down the best he could at his sleeping sibling, then closed his eyes again, humming quietly to himself until he too fell asleep. The storm went on and neither boy stirred again till morning.
XXX
It wasn't the blinding light that lit up the bedroom that woke the thirty-one year old man. It wasn't even the clap of thunder that shook the floors and rattled the windows. It was the beckoning of his name followed by the feeling of fingers clinging to his outstretched left arm and shaking it vigorously that finally brought the man's green eyes to crack open. The room was still submerged in darkness. He didn't even remember falling asleep. Years of needing to be able to wake up alert and ready for fight or flight brought him to prop himself up on his elbow and rub his eyes.
"Sammy, 's wrong?" He mumbled still half asleep.
"It's Ben," the voice corrected him.
"Ben, what's up?"
"Sorry to wake you, but I can't find Mom." The boy replied. Dean turned to look behind him and saw that Lisa's spot of the bed was unoccupied. He frowned and then turned back to her son.
"Maybe she couldn't sleep. You check the living room?" Ben shook his head. "Is there something I can help with?" The boy looked sheepishly over at Dean.
"I just...I-I had a nightmare." A flash lit up the room again and thunder rolled. "Normally I come find Mom, but..."
"Ben, what's wrong?" Lisa sounded as she stepped into the room.
"I had a nightmare."
"Oh honey, it's alright. Come here." She sat down on her side of the bed and motioned for her son to sit next to her. She wrapped her arms around him, kissing his forehead. Dean watched the two, wanting to offer some kind of support but not wanting to over step his boundaries. He wasn't the boy's father, and although he cared about him like he was his own, he wasn't sure how Ben felt about him including himself.
Nightmares were nothing new to Dean, being that Sam had them frequently starting at a young age. The thirty-one year old wasn't sure if it had to do with the demon blood that was slipped to him as a baby which later grew into premonitions, having witnessed their mother's demise at six months old, or something else. Not to mention he'd had his own nightmares himself, which were especially common and gruesome after his time in Hell. And now they were back, but this time they were of Sam in Hell, screaming and begging for Dean to rescue him from never ending torment.
Lisa met Dean's eyes, pulling him out of his thoughts.
"Huh?"
"I said you wouldn't mind if Ben laid with us for awhile, right?"
Dean looked from the woman to the boy who looked away embarrassed.
"Mom it's fine," he said starting to move out of her arms.
"Ben, it's cool. Believe me. I know a thing or two about nightmares. I'm not judging, Sam dealt with them for...well forever. It's nothing to be embarrassed about. Sam use to wake me up all the time because of them." Lisa gave the man a small appreciative grin while her son nodded to show he had heard him. "Here, come lay down, I'll go sleep on the couch."
"No." The boy responded. "It's fine. You can stay."
Lisa scooted over until her back rested up against Dean's chest, and Ben crawled into his Mom's usual spot. She wrapped her arms protectively around her son and closed her eyes. The once hunter gently rested his arm across both of them and closed his eyes. A few moments later, he began to hum. It was the same song his mother had sang to him when he was little, as well as the same song that he later sang to comfort a scared Sammy.
Neither Lisa nor Ben commented on it and soon after, both had fallen back to sleep. But the thirty-one year old man didn't. He removed his arm from across the mother and her son, and rolled over onto his back. After a few minutes, he sighed and pushed himself into sitting position. Slowly and quietly so that he didn't wake Lisa or Ben, he removed himself from the bed and made his way out of the bedroom to the kitchen. Dean opened up the cupboard to pull out a glass, then turned to the cabinet and retrieved a half empty bottle of whiskey. The man helped himself to a generous glass of alcohol and then seated himself at the dinning table. The storm went on and no one stirred again till morning.
End
A/n: Thank you everyone for reading my one shot, have a phenomenal Supernatural Day and if you're celebrating (I know I am), please be safe about it.
